Debbie Does Drivel

THIS PAST WEEKEND, I:

Was watching a 1978 movie titled "An Unmarried Woman." To me, this movie was obscure and little-known. It played on the WE (Women's Entertainment) channel.
In the other room, Kevin viewed some show where they turned a Ford Explorer into a garbage truck. But this is not integral to the story.
Actually, there really is no story, so it's not integral that I point out the above is not integral.
What is notable, though, is that Kevin does not remember anything from anytime anyplace anyone anyhow.
He can't recall anyone he ever went to school with, teachers' names, what he did as a kid, years 18-30, or anything thereafter. We think the memory center of his brain may have been siphoned out during an alien abduction while a toddler.
At any rate, Kevin has no recollection of most things that happened last week. It really is that bad.
So, when, on his way to the kitchen last night, he asked me what I was watching, I replied sheepishly, "An Unmarried Woman," and he stated matter-of-factly, "Oh, with Jill Clayburgh," I understandably about rolled from my prone, couch-bound, pillow-lofted, blanketed, stretched-out position, onto the sharp edge of my distressed pine coffee table, which could have knocked me out, stealing from me my memory, so Kevin and I could then be cerebral-cortex-less drone twins.